


Yellow Pansies

by grossferatu



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Old Men In Love, Roses, Two Horrible Old Married Men, Vague Allusions to Murder, Valentine's Day, language of flower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29455296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grossferatu/pseuds/grossferatu
Summary: Peter does not buy Elias yellow pansies.He buys him red roses.That's important.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Yellow Pansies

**Author's Note:**

> Idk y'all it's short and gay and cute and they're husbands.

The bouquet of roses appears on Elias’s desk.

Well, no. First, it appears on Rosie’s desk, and before that at the front desk, and before that delivered by a harried looking delivery man who hates that he must deliver these, on this day, on the day that his wife filed for divorce.

Peter, if asked, would say that this was the true purpose of the flowers, and that their destination was just a matter of convenience. There isn’t anyone else for him to send them to, after all. Sending flowers to his family members would just give the wrong impression entirely.

They are red. They are cheap, sprayed with that flower smell that is what most people in cities think of when they think of flowers. They are on the verge of death, lightly dried around the edges, and the thorns have not been removed whatsoever.

When Peter makes an unsolicited call later that day, they are looking astonishingly perky, sitting in a small, tasteful vase, under the small black and white photograph of James Wright.

“I hate you,” Peter says, with all of the malice of a pre-recorded message. “Why him?”

“I said it was from one of his grandchildren,” Elias says.

Peter blinks at him. “I ate his only grandchild.” To get under his skin, before he’d known exactly what he was dealing with under the slightly threadbare tweed jackets.

Elias smirks. “That is rather the point, yes,” he says. “Happy Valentine’s day, dear, it brings me great warmth that you care.”

Peter sits heavily in the chair that’s too large for men of average build, that Elias did not purchase for him. “I don’t,” Peter says.

“Of course.”

Elias is in Peter’s lap, now, holding one of the roses. “I’m really a romantic at heart,” he says. “You should have gotten me yellow pansies,” he says.

“Well, I don’t,” Peter lies. “It’s not even a proper holiday. I think you might actually be older than the modern understanding of it.”

Elias nods absently, and kisses Peter.

“You’re warm,” he says.

“That’s rather the point,” Peter answers.

The door is locked, and Rosie does not, despite a polite request, go home.


End file.
